Bloody Lessons: A Victorian San Francisco Mystery

by Locke, M. Louisa

  “She said she wasn’t sure she’d ever really loved anyone. I didn’t know what to say. Do you know what happened to cause this, I think she called it an ‘epiphany?’”

  “Oh, you poor dear. What happened was a distressing conversation with Seth Timmons on Sunday night, and I believe she’s still feeling guilty that she didn’t support Hattie enough before she died.”

  “Timmons came by on Sunday? Did he have any news about Buck?” Nate was surprised that Laura hadn’t mentioned this.

  “Yes. He found out that Buck was in San Francisco at the time Laura was attacked, working for an uncle. He told Laura he would find out if Buck has been following Laura home from work or hanging out behind the house at night and upsetting Dandy.”

  Annie paused. “Dandy was very friendly to Seth on Sunday. It made me wonder if someone could take Dandy to where Buck works to see how Dandy responds. It wouldn’t prove anything definitively, but it would give us an indication if our suspicions are correct.”

  Nate nearly laughed out loud at the image of the diminutive dog leaping and snapping at some lumbering youth. But, not sure he wanted to encourage this plan, he changed the subject. “Tell me how Peter Blaine responded when you told him he wasn’t the only one to receive an anonymous letter.”

  “He initially thought I was there to squeeze some money out of him. I hope I didn’t cause any trouble by letting him know that Emory was one of the other people who had been targeted. I was afraid that, otherwise, Blaine wouldn’t have been willing to talk to me. He said he was going to track down Emory tonight, check on my story. Do you think Emory will be upset?”

  “I don’t think so; but Blaine must have been furious to think someone would be trying to ruin his daughter.”

  “Yes, he immediately named Buckley, that corrupt political boss you mentioned, when I brought up the possibility of a political motive behind the letters. I asked for his help to see if there were any connections he could find between Buckley and any disaffected teachers. I gave him Frazier’s name, the one who lost the job to Mrs. Anderson. I also gave him Mrs. Washburn’s name, the janitoress at Girl’s High who dislikes Hoffmann so much, and the name of her brother.

  “Her brother, why? Who is he?”

  “His name is Ferguson, and he’s the janitor at Laura’s school. Both he and his sister are Scottish immigrants, and there is always the possibility Ferguson is part of Buckley’s political organization. I know this is far-fetched, but it occurred to me that it was an odd coincidence that Hattie Wilks ended up in that run-down boarding house owned by another Scotsman. And Laura confessed to me last night that she had been getting a ‘bad feeling’ about Ferguson. She wouldn’t tell me why.”

  Nate didn’t see the connection, but he trusted Annie’s instincts. He just said, “Did Blaine say he’d help you?”

  “Yes. I’m just hoping Emory will be able to restrain him. He was so sure Buckley was behind everything that I feared he was going to go right out and strangle the man.”

  “Surely he understands that he shouldn’t do anything that would lead to public scandal. That really would threaten his daughter’s reputation.”

  “Yes, but Nate, what if it is too late? It was last week that Della Thorndike hinted that there was some sort of relationship between Kitty and Hoffmann, which suggests rumors have already started.”

  “Is there any possibility that the rumors about Miss Blaine and Hoffmann are true?” Nate couldn’t help but think about the thread of truth behind the notes to Hattie. What if Kitty was another young woman who had been seduced?

  Annie shook her head. “I saw no evidence that Hoffmann had any interest in Kitty. From everything I’ve heard, the teacher Kitty is closest to is Andrew Russell. She is evidently a brilliant linguist and his prized student, and it is possible she has developed a school girl’s infatuation with him. In fact, if I hadn’t met her in person, I would have said that she might have the strongest motive for sending the notes to Hattie: jealousy at losing Russell’s attention. But now I would swear she is innocent of any wrong-doing, and, of course, there is no reason she would have sent the anonymous letter to her own father.”

  “But where did Miss Thorndike get the idea about a relationship between Hoffmann and Kitty Blaine?”

  “She is such a gossip, she could have heard something from anyone. For example, one of the other Normal class students might be jealous of Kitty. To my mind, Mrs. Washburn, the janitoress, is the most likely candidate since she seems to have an ongoing feud with Hoffman. But what if Della Thorndike made the story up herself? What if she were the letter writer?”

  “You have mentioned this idea before. But why would she do that? What political motivation would she have?” Nate had trouble picturing the elegant woman he saw last week at the theater sneaking around putting poisonous notes in people’s mailboxes.

  “Remember, Laura’s theory is that Miss Thorndike might be trying to get Hoffmann fired so Russell would get his position. But that doesn’t make sense if the notes to Hattie were by the same person who is targeting Hoffmann. Russell’s reputation would have suffered as well if the accusations had become public. Well in any event, I also gave Blaine both Thomas Hoffmann’s and Andrew Russell’s names. I thought, why not? What could it hurt to see if there was any connection between them and either political party?”

  Nate sighed and said, “None of this quite fits. Do you think we are being led astray by our assumption that the anonymous letters are all from the same person? We need another meeting. Get Blaine, Emory, maybe Hoffmann all in the same room, share information. Why are you smiling?” asked Nate.

  “Because I told Blaine the same thing,” Annie replied. “Right now I could believe almost anything. Buckley might be behind these most recent letters, or it could be a disaffected teacher like Frazier or an unhappy school employee like Mrs. Washburn who wrote them.”

  Annie then made a small strangled sound in her throat, and she looked at him with fear, saying “Oh, Nate, if it were Russell, writing the letters as part of a twisted attempt to bring Hoffmann down and move into his job. What if he saw Hattie as an obstacle to that plan, giving him a reason to push her down a flight of stairs and leave her there to die? What if Laura has been right about him all along?”

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Thursday evening, February 12, 1880

  "FALSE REGISTRATION: A Bold Attempt to Commit Wholesale Fraud. The landlady informed him that the room had been rented by Chris Buckley, who had furnished her with a list of the names of the alleged lodgers that were to crowd themselves into the single bed." ––San Francisco Chronicle, 1880

  At Nate’s insistence, Annie took a cab to his law firm’s offices. As she walked up the stairs, she felt grateful she’d done so. She was very tired. By the time Nate and she had thoroughly discussed what they wanted to accomplish at the meeting with Blaine, Emory, and Hoffmann, it was later than either had expected, and both of them still had work to do before they retired. She’d hoped to have the time, and the courage, to bring up the topic of their relationship. But she’d taken one look at the dark circles under his eyes and determined this was not the moment for a deep personal conversation. Surely, when the investigation was over and the trial he was working on was completed, there would be time.

  When she reached the firm’s office, the entry door stood open. She took a minute to appraise the men who were gathered in the outer room. Emory and Blaine, similar in age and status, were so different in appearance. Emory was tall and elegant, displaying his wealth prominently on his person. Blaine was short and plain and could have passed unnoticed among the men working at his construction sites. Yet they shared a distinct air of power and confidence as they chatted animatedly with each other.

  In contrast, Nate and Thomas Hoffmann, both young men making their way up the professional ladder, stood talking more quietly to the side. Nate, who must have gone to the barber early this morning, looked well-groomed and polished for once, as befitted a lawyer. Hoffman
n, on the other hand, looked for the first time as if the strain of the accusations were getting to him, with his shirt collar slightly wilted and chalk dust sprinkled over his coat.

  Just as everyone finished offering their polite greetings to Annie, the door to one of the inner offices swung open, and the man who came into the room instantly eclipsed every other male there. Able Cranston, the new law partner, wasn’t physically imposing, but when he came up to her to be introduced, she experienced the full force of his personal magnetism. He told Annie that he’d greatly admired her father when he was a young man. He then gracefully complimented her for using her business acumen to help in the current investigation and praised Nate for his contributions to the on-going trial. No wonder he was known as one of the best defense lawyers in the state. She would be hard-pressed as a jury member (if women were ever allowed to serve on juries) not to believe every word he said no matter how guilty his client.

  When Cranston left, the meeting began with everyone sitting around the conference table. Blaine was the first to speak, and he reported that he wasn’t able to find any evidence of political connections for Frazier, the applicant for Mrs. Anderson’s job, or Stoddard, the math teacher who Hoffmann had dismissed. Ferguson, the Clement Grammar janitor, was a different matter.

  “I learned he is well-known among saloon keepers south of Market for getting out the vote for the Democrats,” said Blaine. “I don’t know if he is working directly for Buckley, but I’m looking into that.”

  Nate asked, “What about Andrew Russell?”

  When Blaine simply shook his head in the negative, Emory spoke up. “After Blaine tracked me down last night and told me about the latest letter, I spent some of today dropping in on three of my fellow school board members, all Republicans. I said I was looking for an educated man to offer a position in my company, floated the name of Andrew Russell.”

  Emory continued. “Frankly, I wanted to see if anyone had gotten a letter similar to the ones that had accused Hoffmann of impropriety. Nothing like that was mentioned, but one board member did say he’d met Russell at a couple of Republican fund raisers. Didn’t remember anything else but that he was a school administrator and that Russell mentioned an older brother who’d been a New York state senator during the war.”

  Hoffmann spoke up and said, “Look, I’ve known Russell for at least five years. If you are saying he wrote the letters about Emory and myself in order to curry political favor, I just don’t buy it. The man’s only ambition is academic. He’s got his head in the clouds half the time, parsing out some poem he’s translating.”

  “But could he be manipulated by someone?” Nate asked. “A Republican who wanted to weaken Principal Swett’s position at Girls’ High or Buckley who wanted someone who’d undermine Swett’s influence with the legislature in Sacramento?”

  A fierce debate erupted between Blaine and Emory over whether the anonymous letters were more likely to have been written to advance a Democratic or a Republican agenda. Annie finally stood up, forcing all the men at the table to stop talking and rise out of politeness.

  She smiled and said, “I have a suggestion. We need to flush out the letter-writer, force them to reveal themselves. Even if this person is working for someone else, knowing the writer’s identity is key to figuring out the motive.”

  Emory looked interested and said, “And just how do you suggest we do that?”

  “There are risks, but I would write a letter to all of our suspects, an anonymous letter, that states that we know what they are up to and are prepared to expose them unless they meet with us and agree to terms.”

  Blaine guffawed and said, “By gum, blackmail them! Aren’t you a smart little lady?”

  Annie, seeing Nate stiffen at Blaine’s tone, said quickly, “Exactly. While it is possible that someone who is innocent might show up, I think we could probably deduce they aren’t involved pretty easily.”

  “So we write to Ferguson, since he has the political connections,” Emory said, “and hope that if he shows up, we can determine if he is working on his own or for Buckley?”

  “Well, I doubt whether Ferguson, or his sister, is clever enough to write the letters on their own,” Annie replied. “But even if Ferguson goes to Buckley and asks him what to do, wouldn’t Buckley send him to the meeting, if only to find out who’s on to him?”

  “That’s what I would do,” Blaine said. “But I might send someone with a bit more authority, as well, just to make sure this Ferguson has the guts to keep quiet.”

  “That’s why I think I should be the one who shows up to the meeting,” Annie replied quietly.

  When the uproar ignited by that statement finally died down, she continued. “I would want several of you nearby. Perhaps hidden in an adjoining room. I’m not foolish.”

  Nate said something under his breath, and Annie decided to ignore him. She said, “If Ferguson comes on his own, I can tell him I am investigating for the school board and that I can get him fired if he doesn’t confess. If he is working for someone, he might push the blame on them.”

  “What if he brings one of Buckley’s henchmen?” Blaine said.

  Annie replied, “In that case, I suspect they wouldn’t see me as much of a threat, so there would be less chance of anything violent happening. And if you or Emory recognizes someone who works for Buckley, this would actually help us. Anyway, if you felt I was getting into trouble, you could step forward.”

  Blaine nodded, and Emory said, “And we do the same with these other names you’ve give me, Frazier and Russell? Assume that they will either say something that will implicate themselves or reveal someone they are working for.”

  “Yes, but I would suggest we also send a letter to Della Thorndike.”

  Emory exclaimed, “Who’s Della Thorndike?”

  Hoffmann, who had been quiet during this last conversation, turned to Emory and said, “She teaches at Girls’ High and is temporarily teaching the Normal class. But I must say, I think she would be even less likely than Russell to be our letter-writer.”

  “She knows everyone involved,” Annie replied. “She seems close friends with Ferguson’s sister, who works at Girls’ High; she knows all the teachers who have been maligned; and she wasn’t completely truthful with me when she reported her role in getting Mrs. Anderson hired. In addition, she is a very close friend of Andrew Russell’s.”

  Hoffmann shook his head. “Well, she does like to be in the thick of things, so I could see her inadvertently playing a role. Maybe giving Ferguson some information or being used by Russell.”

  “But you just described Russell as a dreamer, while Miss Thorndike strikes me as being very practical,” replied Annie. “She’s intelligent and wields a good deal of power and influence among the teachers and administrators in the school district. What if it was Della Thorndike who is using Russell and Ferguson to serve her own ends?”

  “But what ends?” Hoffmann said. “What possible motivation would she have?”

  “Is this Thorndike the teacher my Kitty dislikes?” Blaine blurted out. “The one Kitty says always tries to make her feel stupid?”

  He looked at Annie, who nodded, and he then said, “Seems if she wanted to damage my girl’s reputation, a girl who never did her any harm, maybe she’s writing these letters just because she’s one of those people who likes to hurt others.”

  Chapter Forty

  Saturday afternoon, February 14, 1880

  "VALENTINES Most Elegant Stock in the City. From 1 Cent to $5 Each. Delivered in City or Mailed to country free on receipt of price." ––San Francisco Chronicle, 1880

  Nate stood nervously at the front door to Annie’s boarding house, waiting for Kathleen to let him in. He’d told the cab driver to wait since he only had a few minutes to spare, but he knew he must see Annie before she went off to Girls’ High.

  The door opened, and the young maid smiled warmly as she ushered him in. “Sir, what beautiful flowers. Mrs. Fuller will be pleased, but you need to b
e a little more careful with them. Shall I get a vase for you?”

  Nate looked down at the nosegay of violets he’d bought from a corner flower seller and saw that he was crushing the short stems. He’d spent a good half hour yesterday at the stationers near his office picking out a valentine card. The simple card he ended up buying showed a small boy giving his teacher an apple, with the caption, “Be Mine.” Be Mine. This morning, when he reread the card before signing it, all he could think of was how possessive that sounded and that Annie would hate it. And the illustration? When he got it, he was thinking of her stint teaching at Girls’ High, but for a valentine? Was he supposed to be a little boy? Was she supposed to be teaching him something? The last-minute decision to buy flowers came from his panicked doubt about giving her the card, which was in his coat’s inner pocket and would probably stay there.

  He followed Kathleen into the formal parlor, empty of boarders for a change. Annie was sitting at the small writing desk near the front bay window, and she looked up at his entrance and smiled. He said, “I can’t stay but a minute, the cab is waiting, but I wanted to see you before…are you sure you are all right with me not being there with you?”

  Annie put aside whatever she had been working on and came over to stand next to him. She took the violets from his hand, brought them up to her nose, and breathed deeply. Then she said firmly, “Yes Nate, I am sure. Do I wish you were going to be standing beside me the whole time? Of course I do. But I quite understand why Blaine and Emory don’t want a lawyer there when I confront whoever shows up today. If anyone shows up. That is really my greatest fear. That this will all be for naught and they will think me a fool for even suggesting this plan.”

  “They jumped on your idea fast enough.”

  “I know; I was rather surprised by that. I am sorry I sprung the idea without telling you, but it came to me in the cab on the way over to the meeting.”